This Tangled Web We Weave
by AlwaysFidelius
Summary: The disgraced ex-bender and the fiery-spirited Avatar are hardly a match made in heaven, but maybe—just *maybe*—they can work something out.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first chapter of a longer fanfiction between Korra and Tahno. It's a little AU in that Korra and Tahno have met before the 'private lessons' scene in _The Spirit of Competition_. Other than that, it pretty much sticks to canon! Hope you all like it! Disclaimer: I don't own _Legend of Korra_ or any associated characters.**

Chapter One

_So, this is what it's like. _He stands before the sink, gazing into the dark, scuffed basin, and lifts trembling fingers. Twitches them, pulling at the cool air. Last week, the water flowing from the tap would have been pulled into a smooth ribbon, would have followed every slight movement of his fingers, danced in the sunlight before the mirror. Now, there is nothing. No reaction.

Tahno would have expected to feel rage or uncontrollable depression, but instead there is only a hollowness tinged with curiosity. He turns off the tap. The sounds of a city evening drift through the window—automobile horns blaring, faint jangling music, people shouting and laughing. Somewhere nearby a dog barks roughly. He leans forward until his head is in his hands, and then he sighs.

* * *

_The moon is bright and full, swaying over Republic City's rooftops and casting the harbor in silvery light. There is celebration at the bro-bending arena. The Wolfbats have claimed victory again; they wind their way through the halls, headed for the locker rooms, faces plastered with smug grins. Tahno leads his teammates past the first locker room, his gaze flickering over a waiting team. He recognizes the red uniforms, the two bender brothers—the little orphans—and recalls that they're the Fire Ferrets. A pitiful excuse for a pro-bending team. He sees their mascot and namesake winding its way across the younger brother's shoulders. Mako and Bolin—are those their names? _

_Then he sees her. _Her. _The Avatar. He's heard the rumors, of course, swirling from his teammates lips—she's a real knockout, she's a killer, damn, that girl is _hot_—but he's never put much stock into them. It's true. She carries her helmet tucked under her arm, sidling up beside the two brothers, watching the victors pass. Her brown skin is smooth and even, eyes the color of ice. She watches him go with something like detached curiosity. _

_Tahno forces more swagger into his steps, widening his smirk. Hoping to impress and intimidate her. As soon as she's out of view, he averts his gaze. _

* * *

"Tahno!" Narook's surprise is ill-disguised as Tahno enters the Seaweed Noodlery. "I haven't seen you around lately!"

Tahno searches for a cruel or witty comeback, but the words don't seem to come, so he offers Narook a thin, sardonic smile and the older man goes back to his other, nicer customers. The back of the Noodlery is dim and quiet, and so Tahno slides into the corner booth. Lately, he's been skulking around in dark, rough parts of the city, where the sake flows freely at all hours and the women are loose. Narook's establishment is tame in comparison.

Darkness is falling rapidly beyond the windows. Some of the other patrons are huddled in a nearby booth, carrying on a rushed conversation about the Equalist uprisings—chi blockers have been seen in nearby alleyways after sunset, probably waiting to ambush unsuspecting benders.

Tahno feels sick thinking about it—about how another bender might stumble into a trap, might be forced onto their knees. Might open their eyes wide, see the masked figure rise from the shadows, step forwards with a hand outstretched...

He stares at the empty table, planning to leave, when the Noodlery door opens and _she _swaggers in. The _Avatar_. Korra is wearing that stupid Water Tribe outfit, and those stupid spools in her hair, and a stupid grin on her face.

She looks beautiful.

The emptiness twists in Tahno's chest, and he recognizes it as something close to bitterness. She greets Narook cheerfully, waves to another patron, and then makes her way towards the back of the shop. Tahno moves to stand up, but in an instant she's seen him, and in the next moment she is sliding into the booth opposite him.

"Well, well, well—if it isn't Uh-vatar _Korra_."

Korra gives him a crisp cut-the-crap look.

"Have you made any progress?"

He doesn't need to elaborate.

"We're trying." Korra says crisply. "Destroying the arena like that...it was a bold move on Amon's part."

Any mention of the pro-bending stadium twisted the bitterness within Tahno's chest. He avoided Korra's searching eyes.

"And the bending brothers? The orphans? Where do they live now?"

Now it was Korra's turn to avoid his gaze. "They're staying with..." She paused for a moment too long. "A friend. Our sponsor."

"Hiroshi Sato?" Tahno feels his lips twist into a cold smile, and the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. "His daughter is pretty foxy, if I recall correctly."

Something darkens behind Korra's eyes. "Asami Sato is a nice girl."

"I'm sure she is," Tahno knows the old devious smirk is back.

"You know what?" Korra moves as if to stand. "You haven't changed a bit, Tahno."

"Haven't I?"

"I'm really not in the mood, Tahno."

"Oh, a few minutes with me could change that, Uh-vatar."

Korra rolls her eyes and pulls a disgusted face, but she sits back down and folds her hands on the table. Her face is achingly youthful and open, at once clever and sharp and he imagines that she would be so very corruptible.

"You're not the first to have their bending removed, you know."

And something in her voice, something so matter-of-fact, makes all of the fight go out of Tahno. He slumps.

"I'm well aware of that, Uh-vatar."

He feels so endlessly hollow, so disgustingly useless—oh, him? That's Tahno, that's the disgraced ex-bender, the one who so foolishly tried to fight Amon. The one who lost.

Korra's pale eyes rove around the Noodlery. This close, Tahno senses something restless about her. He wants to lean forwards, close enough to see her eyelashes and the freckles on her nose, and ask _why are you even talking to me—after all that's happened? _

He doesn't, of course. He gives her a cheerless smile. If he stays here for too long, he'll be tempted to say something aloud, and then forced to cover with a lecherous remark, and then Korra will give him that grossed-out twisted smile and roll her eyes and huff something under her breath, and when she flicks her ponytail over her shoulders he'll be reminded of why he wanted her in the first place.

And he knows that things are complicated between the ex-bender and the Avatar right now, and it's a tangled web they weave.

* * *

_He folds his uniform neatly, carries it under his arm as he traverses the passageways behind the arena. It's dim and cool and quiet in here, because the crowds have gone home for the night and it wasn't a big match anyways, just some backwater team and the Wolfbats. _

_She comes out of nowhere, appearing from the gloom at the end of the hallway. Recognition is immediate—who else would wear that awful Water Tribe getup in a place like Republic City? The boots and the armband and the little fur-lined cape tied around her waist._

_Her uniform is shoved carelessly under her arm; as she draws closer those pale eyes sharpen and skim Tahno's face. She obviously recognizes him from the arena. Probably has heard about his vanity, his womanizing ways. He smirks. As she passes him, Tahno flicks his hand out, sends a spray of water towards her face. _

_In one swift motion, as though an automatic reaction, Korra twitches her hand, shoots a narrow jet of flame into his water. Tahno watches the spray vaporize. Smoke curls in the air and it smells of burning._

_"Nice try, _Wolfbat_," Korra's lips pull themselves into a triumphant smile. Tahno glares at her, tries to amp up the smolder factor enough to make her squirm. _

_He flicks his hand and extends it, a ball of water spinning in the center. Loops it into the air, winding like an aquamarine snake. Korra watches with mild interest, then extends both hands. Water curls above her left hand; she launches it into the air and in the next moment there is a column of fire exploding above her right palm. They meet and intertwine, snaking together, and then vanish. The odor of burning grows a little stronger._

_Tahno struggles to hide his impression. "Not bad, uh-vatar."_

_Korra meets his eyes and her gaze does not waver. Tahno is struck suddenly by the idea that he could very easily push her up against this wall and kiss her hard. He is imagining what her shoulders would feel like beneath his hands, what it would be like to slide one hand up the waistband of her tunic..._

_"See you around, Wolfbat." Korra lopes away, smirking. Tahno stares after her. There is a very strong dislike brewing in his chest, but somehow it's gotten all tangled up with something else, and he thinks that the something else might be wanting. _

* * *

They exit beneath a starry sky. The night air is cool. Clouds creep in the northern sky.

Tahno begins to trudge, not expecting Korra to follow him. She does. Of course she does.

"Are you going home? Do you live this way?"

"Yes," Tahno snaps. "Yes, I live this way."

"No one's seen you around much since..." Korra pauses. "You know."

"You asked about me?" The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them. _Dammit. __  
_

Korra looks down. Her smooth brown cheeks are tinged pink.

"Don't flatter yourself, pretty-boy."

Something flutters in Tahno's chest. He wishes desperately that he could cast it aside as nervousness or something trivial, but he knows that this is attraction.

Korra tilts her head back and whistles tunelessly. Tahno keeps sneaking sideways glances at her. When they had first met, her face had been so open, so youthful and unburdened. Now there is a serious quality to her steady eyes. She is still youthful, though. Nothing could steal not—not Amon, not his chi-blockers. Nobody.

_And she's still beautiful_, Tahno thinks (is that _pride_ that he feels?). And then _where the hell did _that _come from?_

He pushes his hands into his pockets, and they walk the crowded street in something that just might be a friendly silence.

* * *

**Hello, everyone! Thanks for reading the first chapter! Hopefully, I'll have the second one up soon! Please review/comment and tell me how you liked it (if you did!), and what I could improve upon! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's another chapter! Warning: this is a very strong T rating; there will be sexual themes (yeah, you know it's coming [no pun intended]) and possibly bad language. Mostly 'adult' themes, though; please review if you feel that this should be rated M. I don't want to scar anyone's mind by rating it lower than it should be rated. And without further ado, here is chapter two! Disclaimer: I don't own _Legend of Korra _or any associated characters (but a girl can dream, right?)...**

Chapter Two

Korra tilts her head back, skyward, baring her face to the heavens. There are stars tonight—no clouds—and the cool air settles across her unclothed shoulders like a shawl.

Tahno walks beside her, silent. It is, she thinks, a companionable silence. But beneath the surface, Korra recognizes something tense and breakable beneath the surface. They head for the center of the city, close to Narook's, where the shops are still open and the streets crowded.

Tahno halts suddenly, gestures to an unassuming brick building. "This is where I live."

The building's lower floor has been divided into two shops—a tea room and a bookshop.

"It's nice," Korra tells him. Privately, she is surprised, would have expected someplace a little more glamorous. The bookshop is dark, and an old man is closing up the tea room for the night. They climb a narrow flight of back stairs; this close to Tahno, Korra feels stupid and fluttery.

_What's come over me? _She lets Tahno lead the way through the dim hallway, silent. The Avatar shouldn't feel like this, not in the company of someone like _Tahno_. He's not even a friend!

_Isn't he? A friend? Not an enemy...not anymore. _Korra knows that Tahno would be ashamed to hear that, but the truth is that she cannot dislike him anymore, not like this. He seems broken, almost. If not broken than fragile.

"Here," Tahno says somewhat awkwardly, unlocking a wooden door. There is no apartment number.

It's a small place, spartanly furnished. The front room is dim until Tahno flicks on a lamp. They stand still for a moment; Korra is unsure of what to say—a rarity.

"Would you like some tea?" Tahno asks.

"Yes!" Korra is relieved to have something—anything—to talk about. "Do you drink a lot of tea? I mean, there being a teahouse downstairs and all...they must give you free tea or something, ha ha..."

She realizes that she is rambling and trails off, busies herself by roaming the room and examining everything. The single window overlooks the street; light from the paper lanterns hung on the teahouse's sign illuminate a framed picture on the sill. Korra lifts it, her eyes roving across a black-and-white photograph, very grainy. Three people standing in front of a small wooden house, the woman in a loose dress, the man in overalls. The boy young, maybe sixteen, smiling stiffly at the camera. Wearing a dark uniform. His stupid hairstyle hasn't changed a bit.

Korra finds herself smiling.

"Is this _you_, Tahno?"

"No," Tahno calls from the kitchen. "It's someone else. I keep a stranger's family picture around just for laughs—don't you?"

"Funny boy." Her smile is like the paper lanterns, so full of light that it might float away, might pull her up to the moon. Something in her upper chest twists and flutters.

"Yes, it's me." Tahno's voice is distant, somewhat short.

Korra allows her eyes to rake over Tahno's youthful counterpart. His face is still sharp-featured, rakishly handsome. His clothes, the helmet tucked beneath his arms...without asking, Korra knows that it's a pro-bending uniform. Probably some small, backwater team. She imagines that that's where he got discovered. Or maybe not. Maybe Korra doesn't want to know.

She sets the framed photograph back on the dusty sill and returns to the kitchen. It's very narrow and the smell of tea leaves is overpowering. They relocate to the front room, sitting cross-legged at the low wooden table and drinking mint tea.

"This is good tea." Korra says. _How stupid did _that _sound? Way to go, Korra. _"Um, thanks."

Tahno smiles thinly. "They give me a good deal downstairs."

Silence. Korra wants _so badly_ to say something, but her tongue is heavy and awkward in her mouth and the tea is frankly a little scalding. She blows a thin stream of air across the top of the cup, glances up to realize that Tahno is watching her lips. He looks away hastily.

Korra stares into the swirling depths of her cup, silently willing herself to break the silence.

* * *

_The Order of the White Lotus guard is undeniably handsome, his face angular and rugged beneath his uniform's headpiece. Korra has been putting off firebending practice to shoot loops of water in the direction of the watchtower. Secretly, she hopes that he'll look over, maybe see her antics and smile. She's thirteen years old, caught in the throes of that awkward phase between girl and woman. Her figure is still lanky like a boy's, any slight curves hidden beneath the shapeless Water Tribe tunic and pants. _

_Once, the guard glances her way; Korra's chest twists, and she feels a faint flutter against her ribcage. He _must _know who she is—he _has _to, working at the compound. He's there to keep her safe, for spirit's sakes! She itches to pull some ridiculous act—maybe send a whirlwind of water up into the watchtower, or drag pillars of earth from the newly-thawed ground with her earthbending, or send loops of flame glancing across the tower's roof with her still-iffy firebending skills._

_Korra may have actually __done something, if not for the hand that descended suddenly upon her shoulder. Without turning, she knows that it's Katara. _

_"Master Katara," Korra bows, keeping her eyes fixed on Katara's weathered face. The old woman pats Korra's shoulder lightly, guiding her easily towards the compound's central building._

_"Come inside, Avatar Korra."_

_"Yes, Master Katara."_

_They kneel at a long, low wooden table and drink thick green tea. Korra doesn't care much for the overwhelming flavor but drinks it anyways, just to be polite. _

_"You can tell a lot about a person by their face, you know," Katara says suddenly. Korra ducks her head; she might have known that this was about her silly crush. Her expression must have belied something. She makes a mental note to appear more stoic in the future._

_"They say that if a girl's face is very round, her spirit is destined to be gentle like the moon."_

_"Yes, Master Katara." Korra nods, pretending to be very interested._

_"If someone's face is sharp, full of angles, then their soul will be as sharp as their cheekbones. Don't forget that, Avatar Korra."_

_Korra nods silently. She plans to say something, make a plea for her case, but she has taken too big a mouthful of the bitter tea, and now she must swallow it down._

* * *

"So, pro-bending..." Korra breaks the silence. As soon as the words are out, she regrets them. _I am _such _an idiot._

Tahno nearly flinches. His face hardens. "Yes."

"You, ah, competed as a kid?"

"I started at fifteen. Smaller, local teams. They said I was gifted. The scouts came every fall. One year they found me and sent me to Republic City. I was nineteen then." He pauses. "Two years ago. It seems like a lifetime."

_It must. _Korra nods. They continue an awkward conversation, the parlance stiff; the air is heavy with what has transpired in the past and what is left unsaid now.

Korra wants desperately to bring up that past, the past that they don't talk about, but she refrains. She supposes that Tahno has forgotten, or that he thinks that _she _has forgotten. Maybe it is a subject best left untouched, for now._  
_

The night wears on, and Korra's cup of tea is empty. She drinks two more and then pretends to notice the time.

"It's pretty late," Korra says. "I should be heading home now."

"Of course," Tahno stands, collecting the teapot and cups. "I'm an idiot for keeping you here so long. The streets aren't safe anymore."

Korra pulls back her shoulders. "I can handle myself, thanks."

A dark smirk flickers across his face. "I never said you couldn't, _darling_."

"Don't call me 'darling', pretty-boy."

"Don't call me 'pretty-boy'."

"Fair enough." She smirks. "Still got that old spark, don't you, Tahno?"

He sets the teapot and mugs on the counter. A smirk crosses his thin face.

_Their soul will be as sharp as their cheekbones..._

"Maybe I'll see you around," Korra says. She stands by the front door, one hand on the knob. "Bye, Tahno."

She turns to leave, fingers wrapping around the doorknob.

"Wait."

In an instant, he is across the room. They stand, facing each other, suspended in a single moment of what might be decision. And then Tahno steps forward and kisses her, hard.

Korra swallows her protest. She leans into him; for a moment, there is only the feeling of his hands on her body, and the realization that she's never kissed anyone like this before, and then his tongue is inside her mouth and one hand is tugging on her hair. Korra hears a low moan slide from her lips—was that really her? The sound is so foreign—and she presses herself against Tahno.

The heat and pressure and _tension _builds, and then Tahno is doing something to Korra's neck with his mouth, and she finds herself grinding ruthlessly against him, and then in one swift, catlike motion she pulls away, fumbling for the doorknob.

"I-I have to go—Tenzin—uh, Air Temple Island...the guards..."

Tahno runs his tongue across his lower lip slowly, torturing her with a alarmingly lustful stare. Korra sees the guilt behind his eyes, the guilt and the pleasure and something else that she doesn't recognize and maybe doesn't want to.

She turns on her heels and flees.

* * *

**So...another chapter! Please feel free to review/comment and let me know what you think! Thanks guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone, I've decided to change the rating of this story to "M", which means that it will probably get more _"adult" _if you know what I mean *insert smirking Mr. Bean meme here*. So...yeah. I hope that this doesn't make anyone stop reading it, but if it does I totally understand. Thanks guys!**

Chapter Three

_What just happened? _Korra balances on Air Temple Island's rock retaining wall, the stone solidly reassuring beneath her hands. There are butterflies—or maybe bumbleflies—performing strange circus acts in her stomach. She cannot imagine what came over her in Tahno's apartment, what unfamiliar force pushed her hips against his and rocked back and forth, what sought more friction, what propelled a low, lusty moan from her mouth.

This isn't the Korra that she knows, the fiery-spirited Avatar—or is it? She isn't sure, not right now, staring across the harbor's glassy water at Republic City's gleaming lights. Somewhere out there is Tahno's apartment and paper lanterns and photographs of past lives in backwater villages and it's all tangled up in the stupid feeling in her chest and stomach.

"Ah, Avatar Korra?"

Korra turns, her breath catching in her throat, and sees an Order of the White Lotus guard standing behind her, tugging at the collar of his headpiece.

"Yes?" She stands.

"Are you, uh, alright?"

She assumes that he's following some kind of weird White Lotus guard instinct, or maybe he's heard about her tendency to ditch the island in favor of Republic City. Either way, Korra flashes him a friendly, if slightly dazed, smile.

"Fine. I'm fine."

She turns and heads for the island's compound of buildings, feeling only a little lightheaded.

* * *

Tenzin catches her in the hallway, skirting close to the wall in the cool semi-darkness.

"Korra," He says. She freezes, heart suddenly in her throat.

"Oh, hey, Tenzin! I was just, ah..."

"Were you off the Island, Korra?"

Korra gulps audibly. Attempting to force bravado into her tone, she ends up squeaking,

"No! Why would you think that?"

"You know that it's dangerous out there, Korra! Amon and his chi-blockers are running amok—you can't just wander around, for spirit's sakes!"

"I was with Mako and Bolin!" Korra protests, hears the complain-y quality to her voice and regrets it. "I'm fine, Tenzin. Really. I can take care of myself."

Tenzin looks ready to give her a more severe scolding, but Pema slides from the shadows and places a hand on his shoulder.

"Tenzin," She says softly, and he huffs something under his breath and then Pema steers him away, probably to chastise him about the delicacies of raising teenage girls, and Korra hastens back to her room uninterrupted.

* * *

_"Hello, uh-vatar."_

_Korra freezes, her half-folded uniform shirt clenched in her hands._

_"Tahno."_

_The dark-haired waterbender glides from the gloom of the locker room door to loom over her. _

_"Doing well, I hope?"_

_"Like you care." Korra sniffs, taking extra measure to fold her shirt's sleeves very neatly. "Your scare tactics won't work on me, pretty-boy."_

_"Won't they?" Tahno drawls carelessly, leaning against the metal locker. His thin face is illuminated by a dim, distant light that sets his eyes aglow. _

_"No," Korra snaps. "They won't."_

_"You're cute when you're angry."_

_Korra drops the shirt, hands clenched into sudden fists. "I'll show you _cute_, you smirking little—"__  
_

_"Mastered airbending yet, Uh-vatar?"_

_Korra snarls something unprintable under her breath._

_"I'll take that as a no."_

_There is something so utterly _infuriating _about the smirk on his face—something that makes Korra want to slap him—_

_And then push him up against the wall and kiss him as hard as she could._

_"It's none of your damn business, Tahno." She collects the uniform shirt and crams it into her locker, slams the door harder than she should. The heat gathering in her stomach isn't normal, and neither is this weird urge to step closer to the smirking Wolfbat, to slide her hands around his waist..._

_"I have to go." Korra snaps. _

_"Off to practice your airbending? Or play with your little firebending boy-toy?"_

_"Excuse me?" The words come out high and squeaky._

_"Mako? Your fearless leader?"_

_"We don't—I don't—we haven't—"_

_"Oh, my mistake," Tahno says easily, his smirk widening. "I was under the impression that you two had been engaging in some...extra practice..."_

_"Well, that's complete bullshit!" Korra cries—how vulgar she must sound, how shocked Tenzin or Katara would be to hear her! "Mako and I are teammates. Nothing more."_

_"I'm sure you are, Uh-vatar." _

_Tahno steps close to her, dipping his face towards her until they are nearly touching. Suddenly, Korra can't seem to breathe properly._

_"If you ever need some...professional assistance...with your waterbending, you know where to find me."_

_This close, it's easy to imagine placing her hands on his shoulders, leaning forwards until their lips touch. She wonders what he feels like, his skin beneath his uniform._

_Then Tahno turns and he's out the door, down the dim hallway, and Korra is alone in the locker room with an unfolded uniform and a racing heart._

* * *

"We really need to up our game if we want to beat the Lion Vultures," Mako says gravely, extending his closed fist and shooting a puff of flame into the air. "They may seem like a backwater team, but in the arena they're real killers."

"They've got nothing on _us_!" Bolin protests, allowing Pabu to clamber across his shoulders. "We've got the _Avatar_!"

Korra's mind is elsewhere. The trio of benders have occupied a training room within the stadium's vast complex, but so far they've accomplished very little. Golden late-afternoon sunlight slants through the windows. Her thoughts wander, invariably, back to Tahno.

_This needs to stop. I need to stop it._

Korra stands. "I have to go."

"What?" Bolin shoots to his feet. "What do you mean? Like, out?"

"Yeah. There's something that I have to do."

"But we're training! We've got a match in two days!" Mako sends a blast of flame into the air. "We've barely gotten anything done!"

"This is important," Korra says. Something in her chest is coiled and ready to spring.

"Yeah, let's take a break!" Bolin is always eager to agree with Korra, something that she's grateful for at times like these. Never mind that she's probably leading him on and definitely taking advantage of him, but the earthbender gathers Pabu up in his arms and Korra takes that as her cue to leave.

* * *

It's a short walk to Tahno's apartment. How does she remember where it is? The wide street is crowded with people and carts and venders and automobiles, the clatter and smell of it rising as she climbs the back stairs.

Korra's stomach is full of butterflies—_isn't that a stupid phrase? Too silly and romantic for the likes of _her_, she thinks—_and try as she might, she can't ignore them. She knocks on the door and feels the first pangs of hesitation.

_What if he's here with another girl? Wait, why would there be another girl here? Maybe one of his damn fangirls—shit, I shouldn't have come. Maybe he's not home. Maybe he's training, maybe he's—_

The door swings open.

"Hey, Tahno." Korra doesn't know how to be anything but herself, and the Korra that she knows is not going to back down because of a couple of butterflies in her stomach. She's also not about to act _scared_, or _wimpy_, in front of a man. No, sir. No way.

"Korra?" His thin face registers surprise. "I...didn't except to see you here."

"Yeah, well, we need to talk." She pushes past him, into the apartment.

"About what?" Tahno watches her with guarded concern.

Korra turns to face him. The apartment seems smaller now, brighter, with the sun filtering through torn rice-paper blinds, illuminating dust motes in the air between their faces.

"Last night." Korra takes in a deep breath. The air is thick in here, hard to breathe right when they're standing so close together. "What we did."

"What did we do?"

She stares. Blinks. "You kissed me, idiot."

"Right." Tahno looks almost pained, as if he had been hoping that she'd forgotten. "You have my apologies, _uh-vatar__."_

Apologies. "What do you mean? Apologies?"

"Wasn't trying to make a move on you, uh-vatar." And just like that, the smirking fox is back.

"What if I—" _Don't say it, Korra. Don't say it, don't say it, don'tsayitdon'tsayitdon't— _"What if I wanted you to?"

Tahno scoffs. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Korra bristles at his dismissive tone. In one swift movement, she reaches out, grabs Tahno's forearm and twists it. Another single motion and he has her pushed against the wall, pressed hard against her with his lips tilted towards her.

"You don't _want_, me, _uh-vatar_. Nobody _wants _me anymore. I'm—" And he leans forward until he's whispering against her lips, "Damaged goods."

And then he's kissing her again, hard and fast like before, and Korra tries to say "No" because she shouldn't be doing this, not here, not now, not with _Tahno_, for spirit's sakes, but it comes out a whimpered "yes", and then his hands are skating across her body, pushing at the hem of her tunic, and then he's assaulting her neck with his mouth, sucking hard, and Korra lets out a sharp cry. He's hard between her legs, and when she brushes her fingers across his waistband Tahno moans. Korra reflects, briefly, that she's never done this, never gone this far, and there is heat spreading across her lower stomach. An interval of fervent kissing and grinding and moaning follows, and Korra breaks away first.

"I can't." She says. "I can't."

"Why not?" Tahno bends to suck at her jawline.

And suddenly, Korra doesn't know why she can't stay. One moment she is kissing Tahno fervently, and the next she is sliding her hand down the front of his pants and stroking him. And Tahno hisses her name—not _u__h-vatar, but Korra, _and he kisses her hard and moans against her ear. This is followed by a brief period of breathy moaning and lustful sounds, and Korra somehow ends up straddling Tahno on the couch, and then he comes into her hand, eyes wide, lips parted.

Korra falls forward, against his chest, and for a moment there is only silence and golden sunlight, and she realizes that she hasn't really _embraced _someone like this in a long while, and that it's really quite nice.

Another moment, and the regret starts to settle in. Korra's never done this, never been this far—and certainly not with _Tahno_, not with someone with whom she shares a rocky and tentative past.

"I..." She sits up. "I should go."

"Stay, Korra." Tahno grabs her shoulders and pulls her close, kisses her hotly.

"Tenzin will worry." Korra complains, but then Tahno pushes his hand up the front of her tunic, and he slides another hand into her pants—lower and lower and ohgodwhat'shedoing and then he crooks his fingers and Korra gasps, writhes hard against him.

Tenzin can wait.

* * *

**Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at writing something so *graphic*, and I hope that it didn't read like a bad chapter of _50 Shades of Grey _or anything. Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello, readers! I'm glad that people like this fic, despite the sudden rating change, etc., etc.! THIS FANDOM FSJKB you guys rock. So rock on. Okay, I'm done now. Disclaimer: I don't own _Legend of Korra _or any associated characters.**

Chapter Four

The sai are heavy in Tahno's hands, their sharpened metal tips glinting in the gym's wan light. It's after hours, and technically he shouldn't be here, but Obi's Gym, with its dirty floormats and musty smell, is far better than the arena. Tahno can't show his face there. He can't face another pitying stare or walk into a room to find heads turned, whispers that rise and die down as he passes.

_Oh, him? That's Tahno—yeah, the Wolfbat. He sure used to be a smug asshole, didn't he? Guess Amon cleared _that _up when he zapped Tahno's bending..._

He snaps the sai back and forth, across his shoulder, lunging forward to stab viciously at the air. Maybe, in the back of his mind, he's imagining Amon standing there, unarmed and unmanned, finally at Tahno's mercy. The wickedly sharp metal tridents were used as farming implements; this was how Tahno had come to know them.

* * *

_"No, Tahno! You're doing everything wrong!" His father's voice is high with exasperation. Tahno drops his hands to his sides, staring at the sai. His father has insisted that he train in weapons, that every move be fluid and easy, every punch snap with power._

_"This is pointless!" Tahno says loudly. "I'll never _need _weapons, father—my waterbending is more powerful than any sai or sword."_

_"And what if you don't _have _your bending, Tahno?" His father cries, weathered face creasing into an expression of upmost disappointment._

_Not have his bending? Tahno nearly scoffs. Twelve years old, still awkward and lanky. His eyes are sharper than a twelve year old's should be._

_"You'll never understand," Tahno's father says grimly, collecting the two sai. "Never."_

_Something clenches in Tahno's chest. He wants to shout at his father, to tell him that it is his father who will never understand, because he is a non-bender, cannot bend and never will._

_But he doesn't say anything. How can he? Instead, he lashes a kick at the dirt. His father moves back towards the farmhouse. Low clouds roil in the eastern sky, moving towards the village, the farmland and the river. _

_Tahno knows, in his chest, in his heart, maybe, that he will never be good enough. He will always be too weak to plow a field fast enough, too thin to be a truly good farmhand._

_Never good enough. He has never been good enough._

_Never has been, and never will be._

* * *

Tahno is lost in his own thoughts, staring into space while the gym's muggy air swirls around him. He does not hear the door open, does not see the approaching figure until a voice—a girl's voice—says,

"Tahno?"

He glances up. "Korra."

She steps closer, cocks her hips and folds her arms. That defensive position again.

Tahno sets the sai on the ground, trying to avoid the Avatar's sharp gaze.

"Didn't expect to see you here," He says shortly.

"Likewise."

"Stadium arena not good enough for you anymore?"

"People know me there." Korra swallows. "Sometimes, I just want some...seclusion."

There is something weighing on her mind, Tahno thinks, because she pauses for a long time before dropping cross-legged to the ground. He follows suit and watches her trace patterns on the floor-mat with her pointer finger.

"I didn't think that we would go that far," She says finally. Tahno doesn't need context. "I mean," Korra continues, "If I lived in the Water Tribe, I'd probably be married. If I wasn't the Avatar."

"But you are."

"Yes." She nods, maybe trying to convince herself of something. "Yes, I am."

Silence for a moment. Tahno feels an invisible weight pressing down upon them. The air is golden and muggy with late afternoon heat.

"I thought that it would be someone else, you know?"

"Your fire-bending boy-toy, no doubt." Tahno snaps. "Is that why you're avoiding the gym? Hiding from your teammates?"

"Where I train has _nothing _to do with Mako!" Korra says loudly.

"What, is Republic City's favorite _hero _afraid of a little publicity?"

"Hey!" Korra is on her feet in an instant, her lithe body moving automatically to a fighting position. "I didn't _ask _for this! I didn't ask to be the Avatar!"

"But you _are_!" Tahno rises abruptly. They face off. Korra's face is bright with something like controlled rage. "You _are _the Avatar, Korra!"

"I might be the Avatar, but I'm not a hero!" Korra cries. "Because I can control four elements instead of one—or none? That doesn't make me the damn _messiah_!"

"People look to you for safety! They look to you for protection!"

"I'm not a damn police officer! You want protection, go to Lin Beifong!"

"You're right, _uh-vatar_." Tahno glares. "You're not a hero."

There is a moment of silence—tense silence so thick that it could be cut with a knife. And then they are fighting. Most benders neglect hand-to-hand combat skills—why fight with fists when you can launch fireballs or wind tornados or rocks or waves of water?—but Korra obviously been practicing.

She lands several fairly painful blows to his extremities, but Tahno is quick on his feet and he thinks he has the best of her until Korra grabs his arm and neck and, in one swift, fluid movement, flips him.

Tahno collides with the floor-mat hard, breathless. Korra straddles him effortlessly, seizing his wrists and holding them against the mat.

"Good fight, uh-vatar." Tahno pants. He's thinking about trying to flip her over, reverse their roles, when Korra slides herself up and down along his body, grinding against him. A whimpering moan forces its way from Tahno's lips. Korra smirks.

"Good fight, pretty-boy."

She's driving him wild, of course, but Tahno refuses to let on. He feels himself harden, knows that Korra does, too. Her smirk widens, and then she's bracing herself against his shoulders and dragging herself—_oh god so slowly_—against him.

Tahno bucks himself upward, desperately seeking some friction between them, but it's no use.

"Korra..." He moans, and his hands snake upwards. He touches her clothed breasts, her hair, her face.

_She's so beautiful._

Korra's eyes are bright as she reaches down to knead the hardness between his legs. Then she's rubbing herself against him and her eyes are half-closed, and Tahno is being driven slowly crazy but he doesn't really mind.

He pushes his hand up under her shirt, and when Korra freezes he pushes her gently onto her back. Her lips part, and she bucks her hips upwards, grinding against Tahno. He barely suppresses a whimper—how unmanly would _that _sound?—and instead concentrates on the gleam in her eye, the desperation on her face. It's a desperation that he very badly wants to fulfill.

He tries to remove her undergarments, finger suddenly clumsy, and Korra is tugging at his belt buckle when the sound of approaching footsteps grows loud and close.

"Shit!" Korra is on her feet in a flash, pulling up her pants and straightening her tunic. Tahno fumbles with his belt buckle and hastily combs his fingers through his hair. The gym door swing open, revealing a short, sturdy figure.

"Bolin?" Korra nearly shrieks. "What the _hell _are you doing here?"

"I couldn't find you at the arena gym. Mako said that you might be here." The earthbender's youthful face darkens when he sees Tahno. "What were you doing, Korra?"

"I was practicing!" She strides towards the exit, movements jerky. "Come on, Bolin." Then, over her shoulder, "This isn't over, pretty-boy."

Tahno opens his mouth to reply, but the Avatar is already gone.

* * *

"I'm going to _kill _Mako!" Korra vows, steering Bolin out onto the crowded, sunny street.

"I don't like him," Bolin says darkly, folding his arms.

"Who?"

"That Tahno character. He's always hanging around our team, have you noticed? I bet he's trying to steal our maneuvers or something. He's up to no good, _that's _for sure."

"I don't think that's it..." Korra blinks, swallows, rearranges her hair spools and tunic.

"Yeah, well, he's creepy."

Korra does not reply. They make their way through the heart of the city, stopping finally at Narook's Seaweed Noodlery. The shop is crowded, and the two benders are lucky to nab a corner booth.

Bolin looks deeply pensive, like he's got something weighing on his mind, and finally he blurts out,

"You shouldn't hang around with Tahno."

Korra folds her arms on top of the table, relishing the feel of cool wood against her skin.

"He just _happened _to be at Obi's gym, Bolin. We don't _hang around _together." This was the truth.

"People will think..." Bolin flushes slightly. "They'll think that you two are...you know..."

"What?" Korra forces a laugh. "It's not like _that_!" This was _not _the truth._  
_

Bolin stares at the tabletop. He seems reluctant to say something, but finally manages,

"So you're not...seeing anyone?"

_Oh, spirits. _Korra _hates _lying to Bolin, to his face. She can't. Instead, she swallows and says,

"Bolin...I..."

Thankfully, their food arrives, and Korra fakes distraction. This only lasts a few minutes, however, and Korra looks up from her noodles to find Bolin staring at her.

Tense silence ensues.

"Who is he?" Bolin asks, his lips barely moving.

In that moment, Korra is faced with two options—the either lie to Bolin's face, or to tell him the truth and break something inside of him. And Korra thinks that that _something _might be his heart.

"Nobody." She says quietly. "There's no one, Bolin."

"No one?" Is that _hope _edging into his voice?

"No one." Korra says, and turns back to her noodles. Suddenly, she isn't very hungry anymore.

* * *

The apartment is dim and cold, flooded with evening light, and it is only when Tahno steps through the front door that he realizes how _empty _he feels.

He just wants to see her again.

Soon.

* * *

"Thanks for looking out for me, Bolin."

Korra feels that she owes him something, because no matter when happens Bolin _is always there_, always with his friendly, open face and his gentle concern and his protective nature. And even if she's the Avatar and doesn't need protecting—and if she does it's unlikely that Bolin can provide it—well, Korra is grateful nonetheless.

"Of course," Bolin pushes his hands into his pockets and grins sideways at her. "Why wouldn't I?"

Korra doesn't reply. She tries to smile but she can't, not really and not right now. Around them, the city air is becoming colder, the sun dipping down to the horizon line over Yue bay.

Night is coming.

* * *

**Three cheers for another chapter, eh? Hope that you liked it, and please comment/review!**


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, everyone! I'm glad that people seem to be enjoying this fic—thanks for supporting it, and thanks for being an awesome audience! I know that every fandom has it's "shipping wars", and there's been a lot of that in the LOK fandom, but as a general rule I think that everyone's just pretty great and accepting and whatnot. Rock on, readers! Disclaimer: I don't own _Legend of Korra _or any associated characters (unfortunately).

Chapter Five

Korra wakes the next morning to muggy heat and low, dark clouds. She runs through firebending drills in the courtyard near the temple, follows this with an hour of earthbending. Midway through practice, Mako appears from the gloom of a nearby doorway, lifts one hand in greeting.

"Mako." Why does her stomach flip every time she sees him?

"Your form looks good." Mako leans against a poplar tree. "I think we're in good shape for the next match."

It's tomorrow, Korra realizes suddenly. The next match is tomorrow.

"Me too."

She swallows hard and tries to concentrate on bringing little pillars of earth up from the courtyard's hard dirt surface. The ground here is cold and unrelenting, as hard and threatening as the clouds overhead.

Korra feels...strange...ungrounded, as if the dark thunderheads might press themselves down onto the earth and swallow her whole. As if she might be consumed by the oncoming storm.

In moments like these, she wants nothing more than to hold someone, or be held. To wrap her arms around someone's shoulders, feel their bones and skin beneath her fingers and hands. Fall into rhythm with their breathing. Lay her head on their chest.

A vivid, vivid image of Tahno flashes before her eyes, dissipating like smoke as soon as it appears. Korra gives herself a violent mental shake—no, she and Tahno will never be like..._that_. Not lovey and romantic and sticky-sweet. Not like Mako and Asami.

_Speak of the devil..._

The Sato girl drifts like a water spirit from the gloom of the temple, her thin, pale face framed by locks of tumbling dark hair. Korra tries to force away the rising feeling of jealousy as Mako kisses Asami's cheek.

"Hello, Korra," Asami says brightly, leaning against Mako.

Korra wants to ask _what are you two even _doing _here? _but in the next moment Pema steps from the temple's doorway.

"Make yourselves comfortable, alright?"

She's addressing Mako and Asami. Korra fights the urge to roll her eyes.

"How's training going?" Asami steps towards Korra, her red lips curving into an easy smile. There is a fluid elegance to her movements that Korra will never quite be able to master. A sort of...grace.

"It's fine." Korra mutters through suddenly-tight lips. "It's going fine."

She does not want to stand here, beneath the dangerously dark sky, in the muggy heat, and listen to Asami's sweet voice and see Mako's eyes when he looked at Asami, the _way _that he looked at her—or was he looking at Korra like that?

_Stop._

She needs to leave.

"Actually, I think I'll go meditate." She turns on her heels, fleeing before Asami and Mako can further question her.

It's a short walk to the rocky outcroppings above the bay, and within minutes Korra is poised above the flat water. She can feel the pull of the tides in her bones, in her blood.

She steels herself and then dives.

* * *

_Once more, they are the victors._

_Another match won, another team defeated. Screaming audience, mad whirl of color, heading out to Narook's with grins plastered across their faces._

_The Noodlery is too crowded to sit—barely enough room to stand, everyone packed close together, talking loudly and eating bowls of noodles—and so the Fire Ferrets head out to another location._

_A brightly lit bar, a favorite for pro-benders. The place is crowded; everyone calling out their congratulations. No losers here tonight, no sir, everyone's a winner when they walk in the door._

_Korra drinks too much sake on an empty stomach, and next thing she knows she's kissing Bolin on the cheek, maybe a little too close to the mouth, grinning stupidly and accepting drinks bought by strangers. It's a real party in here, too stuffy, though, and when Korra glances over and sees Mako kissing Asami fervently, she stands up and pushes her way towards the exit._

_The alleyway is cooler, the moon swaying bright overhead. Korra stumbles only a little. She sees him too late, leaning against the wall with his dark hair and twisted smile. He's staring upwards._

_"Enjoying ourselves, aren't we, uh-vatar?"_

_"Tahno." She faces him, tries to glare._

_"Hitting the sake bottle a little hard tonight, I see."_

_"Shut up." _

_He smirks, she glowers._

_"It's getting late," Tahno says. "You have anyone to spend the night with?"_

_Korra's mind flickers to Mako and Asami, intertwined in a corner booth._

_"None of your business."_

_"Is it?"_

_They stare each other down for a hot, tense moment, and then Korra closes the gap between them and kisses him._

_Why?_

_She's drunk, of course. Has never consumed this much sake—have any of them? Mako, maybe, because he's older and most eighteen year-olds in Republic City drink sake on occasions like this. Bolin is too young, though. And Korra...she's always avoided alcohol, drinking only in celebration._

_Tonight's a celebration._

_Isn't it?_

_They stumble backwards, against the brick wall of a neighboring building, concealed in semi-darkness. Korra cannot really control her body, and she's surprised to find herself pressing against Tahno. She feels his hardness suddenly, against the juncture of her thighs, and it's enough to send a deep pang of longing into the pit of her stomach, and she wants him _badly_, so badly, but this is Tahno, this is the enemy. _

_Not quite Amon, not quite an Equalist...but close. Close._

_She doesn't care. Korra winds her fingers through his hair, gives in to the feeling. Tongues and heat and then she slides her hand into his waistband and then lower..._

_Lower._

_There. When she touches him, Tahno lets out a sudden moan, a sound deep in his throat._

_"Fuck, yes..." Tahno grinds hard against her, thrusting into her hand. Korra feels hazy and distant and is desperate to feel _alive _right now, to feel alive and not a victim. Not a victim of Amon. Not anyone's victim. Not right now._

_She's never done this before, and her fingers feel clumsy and slow. Tahno doesn't seem to notice; she twists her fingers around his cock and he throws his head back, lets out another low moan._

_Korra blinks away the haze best she can, strokes him harder and faster, and in another moment Tahno's eyes meet hers, and he stares wide-eyed for a moment, face tense, mouth open, and then he thrusts into her hands, moaning, coming hard._

_She stares at her damp hand and, for some inexplicable reason, laughs. Oh, yes, she's a little drunk. Korra's reaction time is obviously off, because when Tahno moves like a cat to press her against the wall, reversing their roles, she can only blink and laugh again._

_They kiss. He pushes his hand into her waistband; she's driven crazy with wanting. Tahno bends to suck at her neck, his fingers working their way inside her. _

_"Tahno!" Korra yelps when he touches her, crooks his fingers, smirking. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, cries out softly. His lips are pressed against hers, his other hand on her breast. Korra moans loudly—did that sound really come from her mouth?—and she begins to feel a buildup. And then it's there, and she's crying out,_

_"Don't stop, don't stop,", and biting down on his shoulder, trying to keeping from screaming something that she'll regret, but hell, she'll regret this entire experience in the morning and in the end she comes violently, shaking, clinging to him._

_They stand there, inches apart, both breathing hard. Tahno falls forward, against her, and they are caught up in a tight embrace for a moment. Korra feels weak, exhausted. Drunk. Yes, definitely drunk. Everything is slightly blurred, slightly muted. Her head spins a little._

_"Tahno..."_

_And suddenly, Korra realizes what she's done—she's sleeping with the enemy! She pushes Tahno away, unable to force a smile, and staggers off towards the bar._

_She's never drinking again._

* * *

When she resurfaces on the other side of the bay, the clouds are lower and darker. Korra emerges from the brown-gray water, shimmying onto the rough wooden dock.

She's out of the water five minutes when a crack of lightening severs the sky. Korra flinches, feels stupid. The smell of rain grows stronger.

When the storm breaks, it breaks hard. Lightening illuminating the sky like a false sun, and driving rain that soaks her to the bone. She tries to bend it away at first, but as the thunder growls over the mountains and rooftops Korra decides that it's not worth it.

The walk proves disheartening.

Every newsstand that she passes is plastered with Amon's face.

The headline of one local paper blares a serious question. _IS THE AVATAR READY TO FACE AMON?_

Korra dodges out of the gutter to avoid a passing Satomobile, her stomach clenching as she turns away from the grainy black-and-white accompanying photograph: it's her, shot from a distance with the Council members, addressing a crowd. Her hands spread like she's trying to fend off questions. She looks almost frightened, almost victimized.

Turning away, she fights to keep the bitterness from filling her hollow chest.

The teahouse is open, a few older men inside, probably playing chess and sheltering from the rain.

She staggers up the back stairs, into the dim hallway, hot and cold at the same time—is that even possible? Someone has drawn the paper lanterns in from the tea room's sign. Korra always notices the little things. Instinctively, she tries the door—unlocked.

_What an idiot, leaving his door open at a time like this._

She's grateful, though, as she pushes inside. Tahno is standing in the front room, an article of clothing in his hand, half-folded.

Korra stands there dripping rainwater on the floor, breathless.

"I want you, Tahno."

He drops the clothing. "_Want me_ to what, _uh-vatar_?"

As Korra closes the distant between them, pressing her damp body against his, she murmurs,

"To make me forget."

* * *

_He sees her at the weekend market, a little before midday. She steps from the family's carriage—no hay-cart or two-wheeled roosterpony trap for Jai-Li Sang._

_"Tahno! Tahno!" His small cousins swirl about, enjoying the general air of chaos. Tahno is _supposed _to be helping his father and uncle with the market stall, but he's distracted now, staring wide-eyed across the hubbub of bartering townspeople and farmers._

_There is an ethereal beauty about her pale face, the sheen of her dark hair. There is a timid quality to her wide eyes, as if she's frightened by the crowd._

_"Tahno!" His father's voice jerks him from his reverie. "Help your uncle with the cabbages, you lazy boy!"_

_Tahno is fourteen years old, has lived in the village long enough to know the Sang family's legacy. Wealthy, aloof in a distant sort of way—they live in a sprawling home in the rolling hills above the village, employ many servants, venture into town only when necessary. Market days are, apparently, a necessity._

_He sets about helping Uncle Joh with the cabbages—unloading the damp green and purple vegetables onto a splintered wooden table, heaping them high, breathing in the scent of mist._

_The sky overhead is flat and gray. Tahno tries to concentrate on helping, and not stealing glances in the direction of Jai-Li. Everyone knows her face, her beauty. She was a sweet child, a pretty little girl who has suddenly become beautiful._

_Tahno is still unloading cabbages when a man's voice breaks his reverie again. This time it is not Uncle Joh._

_"Excuse me, boy—how much for a dozen cabbages?"_

_He glances up, freezes cold. It's Mr. Sang._

_A young boy stands beside him, listening earnestly, and behind them—_

_Jai-Li._

_"Uh—it's—for a dozen...we normally charge..." He finds himself stumbling over simple words, unable to think straight. Jai-Li holds a paper umbrella, gazes from its shade. Tahno's eyes flicker across the gentle curves of her body, concealed beneath a red silk dress, then rake back up to her face._

_He rattles off the wrong price. Mr. Sang, addressing the boy, conducts a brief lesson about marketing produce. Tahno stares, dumbstruck, at Jai-Li._

_He thinks he's in love._

* * *

"Tahno," Korra moans, her teeth descending on her lower lip. She lets a whimper slide through, caught somewhere between pleasure and pain. Tahno ducks his head and runs his tongue along her exposed clavicle, presses his palm against her clothed breasts.

They stagger down a short, dim hallway to his bedroom; Korra's pleasure-fogged mind registers a Spartanly-furnished space, a low, narrow bed. Stumbling backwards, still kissing fervently. She can feel him against her, already hard. He pushes her down slowly.

Tahno makes quick work of her tunic, stripping it off to reveal her white undergarments. Korra tugs at his waistband, rubs her hand against the bulge there. He ducks his head, letting out a low moan, and runs his tongue across her breasts. Korra thrusts her hand down the front of his pants, strokes him wildly as he touches her.

She wants more. She knows what she wants, and she wants him. Now.

Things escalate quickly, then, mostly thanks to Korra: she's sliding her pants down around her ankles, then off—pulling off Tahno's shirt, tracing her finger across the white scar on his shoulder; thrusting her hips up and grinding against him, making him whimper.

He wants this as badly as she does. Korra knows it. She unzips his pants, pulls him towards her. Tahno pauses; their eyes meet.

"Korra," He says slowly. "Are you...sure?"

She feels so hot and empty, like she could drift away at any moment—she needs an anchor.

"Yes."

He pauses at her entrance, her on her back and his hands by her shoulders, eyes locked on each other. And then he pushes into her and Korra sees stars.

For a moment, Korra is frozen—he's _inside her_; she's no longer a virgin, no longer pure, and it can never be regained. She can't take this back.

Tahno rocks forward, and she lets out a high whimper.

"What's wrong? Does it hurt?"

Korra bites her lip. "No."

"Mixing pleasure with pain, uh-vatar?"

"Shut up," Korra hisses, closing her eyes. He's smirking, but the sarcastic look doesn't quite reach his eyes. Korra tries to focus on anything but the pain radiating through her midsection; how is this pleasurable? She doesn't want to make a fool of herself. She also wants to _feel something._

_Pain is something._

_So is pleasure._

And then Tahno keeps rocking back and forth, thrusting into her, and she feels the first wave of pleasure—hard, like a wave on a rocky beach.

"Fuck!" Korra cries out.

"You know I like it when you talk dirty," Tahno murmurs, close to her ear. Then there came several minutes (or was it hours? It felt like an eternity) of thrusting, soft moans, words whispered into the hot, still air. The rain continued to pound outside. Korra felt something heat within her, heat to the point of boiling, and she was on the edge, on the edge, so close...

In one swift move, she flipped him—an expert move, she thought smugly, straddling him effortlessly. She rocked back and forth, satisfied when he threw his head back and moaned. Her own pleasure was building steadily; she moved faster, desperately seeking more friction...she was so close, so close, _so close..._

She comes hard; she screams, and yes, she screams his name and maybe she'll regret it later, but right now there's only the white-hot moment of pleasure—Korra's never felt anything like this, ever.

And then she's on her back, Tahno above her, kissing her, his hand on her breast, and she knows that he's close. Korra closes her eyes, still riding a hot wave of pleasure, and in another moment Tahno is moaning, pulling out of her. He comes on her stomach. She feels a flash of relief—Korra's not stupid, she knows what could happen—and allows him to pull her close. Is this what it's always like, afterwards? Laying together on the narrow bed, half-unclothed, still breathless.

Time passes. Korra dozes off, dreams a half-dream about floating, Yue Bay, a rainbow in the Eastern sky, and wakes tangled up with Tahno. The storm is still raging beyond the wet windows.

Mako and Bolin will wonder where she is, they will worry. Tenzin will probably fret over her whereabouts. Korra should go back. It's been hours.

She tells Tahno that she has to leave. He pulls her in, kisses her again, and her eagerness to get back to the island fades.

"Stay here," Tahno says, his fingers moving deftly along her stomach, her hipbones.

"I can't," Korra says. "I can't, I'm sorry, I can't."

And she washes herself hastily in the bathroom, kisses him before she leaves—it's a chaste kiss this time, she can't explain why—and leaves. Korra wants to stay, wants to stay very badly, but as soon as she's out the door and onto the street, the guilt and regret begin to wash over her.

They are strong, as pounding and relentless as the rain, and by the time she arrives at Air Temple Island, the Avatar feels empty once more.

* * *

**Another chapter! Please review and tell me what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I swear, this fandom is totally awesome. Thanks for reviewing, everyone—every review is appreciated, whether it's short or long, reviewing the writing style or just saying that you enjoy it. It's great knowing that people are enjoying this story, and I'm always glad to hear about it! Disclaimer: I don't own LOK or any associated characters.**

Chapter Six

"Bolin?"

"Yeah, Korra?"

They are sitting on the cold rocks below the temple, overlooking Yue Bay, trying to catch the last timid rays of sun. Another storm is on the way, and Korra wants to enjoy the fair-ish weather while she can. Spirits know that the _last _monsoon left plenty of damage: leaves and sticks and branches littering the island, uprooted trees in the city park, patches of grass turned to mud overnight. Days have passed since then—two days, or is it three?

"Um..." She almost doesn't ask it. Almost hesitates, but she can't bring herself _not _to ask. "What do you think about the Avatar, ah..."

"What?" Bolin breaks a stick in half, chucks the other piece away. They both watch it fall.

"What do you think about the Avatar having sex?"

There. She's said it.

Bolin flushes, only slightly. Korra feels weirdly proud of him for that, for not getting embarrassed and turning scarlet and stuttering.

"Well," Bolin begins, then pauses. "What do you mean? Like..._you_?"

"Not _me_," Korra says, maybe a little too quickly. "Just...Avatars. In general. I mean, we're supposed to be all spiritual. And pure—Master Katara always told me that the Avatar is the purest bender in the world."

"Avatars obviously have...sex, Korra. I mean, Aang and Katara clearly went at it—how do you think Tenzin and his siblings came to be?"

"Right." Korra tries to force _that _unpleasant image out of her head. "Yeah. You're right, Bolin."

And he is right—of course he's right. Aang and Katara had obviously gotten down to business; she had borne him three children.

_But that's different. That was love._

The voice in Korra's head is high and whiny; she can't seem to silence it.

"They were married, though," She says, immediately regretting it.

"Different times," Bolin replies easily. "Nobody's a virgin on their wedding night anymore."

_It's different for you_, Korra thinks miserably. Bolin isn't the Avatar—Republic City's eyes are not constantly trained on him. His mistakes aren't judged by the city's most influential citizens. And moreover, he isn't anyone spiritual savior. There is something very _pure_ about being the Avatar, Korra has been taught, and she can't help but worry that she's ruined that.

"Thanks, Bo." She's never called him Bo before. It feels funny, like a pet name. There is a brief silence, and then Korra says, "It's lonely here, isn't it?"

She almost expects him to protest, but instead Bolin nods.

"Especially at night."

"I'm scared."

"Me too." He pauses. "Scared of what?"

Korra stares out across the flat gray-blue water. There's another storm coming; low clouds roil over the city already, moving towards the island.

"Scared of something."

Neither of them know exaclty what.

* * *

When Tahno sees the Avatar approaching from across the park, his heart skips a beat.

_What the hell, Tahno? _He's acting like a nervous teenager. Praying that he doesn't blush (or further embarras himself), Tahno stands swiftly and gives her a friendly smile.

Dusk is falling across the city's sprawling park. Paper lanters glow and sway in distant trees, like strange lightning bugs.

"I'm glad that you could come."

"I lied to Tenzin," Korra says. She wears a coat over her blue tunic. Naga is not with her. "I told him that I was going to the city library."

"He doesn't know that it's closed?"

Korra shifts her gaze to the ground. "Does it matter?"

She had agreed to meet him here, but Tahno felt her hesitation. The silence between them hung awkward and heavy.

"So, ah..."

"Let's walk around," Korra suggests, and so they trace a path through the darkness, around the lake. Republic City's lights gleam behind them, illuminating Korra's earnest brown face, her sharp eyes.

"How has training been going?" Tahno asks, just to be polite. He doesn't really care. In the end, the Avatar will always win. He pretends to not believe it, but he does. He does beleive. It's all he has, really...that belief. Good will win.

Won't it?

"Fine." Korra says briskly, and then, "Look—you're not fooling me with this nice-guy act. What do you want to talk about?"

"I..."

"Is this about you taking my virginity?" She stops and turns to face him.

Tahno swallows hard. "Well, to be _honest_..."

Korra stares at him, unrelenting.

"Yes." Tahno admits. With caution, he adds, "I feel as if I've violated you."

"What? Why?" Korra scowls. "I'm a consenting adult."

"You're not," Tahno reminds her, his voice gently. "You're still a girl. Young. Innocent."

He sounds stupid—he's three years older than her, not three _decades. _

Korra turns away, her face hard and impassible.

"Nobody's a virgin on their wedding night anymore."

This surprises Tahno. He knows that there is a double standard for this type of thing. Out in the countryside, especially, young men are expected to have "relations" with women, but a girl who sleeps around is a whore, a bringer of shame to her family.

He stares into the darkness, remembering.

* * *

_"So...pro-bending, huh?" Ty Su traces her fingernails across Tahno's arm, her lips twisting into a smirking smile. "I'll bet you're headed for Republic City."_

_"Maybe." _

_They are standing in the semi-darkness behind her parent's home. It's after market day, the chaos just now winding down. Evening, dusky. Pink clouds in the eastern sky._

_Tu Su is a pretty girl—straight, shoulder-length black hair, eyes like river rocks—but Tahno can't quite figure out why all of his friends go on and on about her._

_"What do you want to do now?" She asks._

_Tahno is about to say 'I should be going about now', but then she reaches down and lifts up her black tunic. She's not wearing undergarments. In the wan light, her breasts are full and round and white. Tahno feels himself harden instantly, feels a hot flash of guilt. He doesn't know Ty Su well._

_He knows why his friends go on and on about her now._

_"Touch me," She whispers. He doesn't know what to do, not really; but he's fifteen now, six full moons away from turning sixteen. He knows enough. His hands fumble a little. Ty Su slides her hand into his waistband. Their breaths are heavy and panting; something tightens in Tahno's stomach, and a moment later he comes into Ty Su's hand, letting out a low whimper._

_He tries to touch her fervently, lustily, and it is admittedly arousing to watch her squirm and moan as he pushes his fingers inside her. She's not a virgin. Obviously. He knows that she's been around, that she's done this with maybe dozens of other boys, but it's no use. She lets out a high scream and comes against his hand. Tu Su kisses Tahno hard, sliding her tongue into his mouth. He's sure that she's going to go further, but then they hear voices approaching._

_They scramble apart. Tahno fumbles to straighten his hair and clothing, but Ty Su easily picks up a nearby bag of onions. Tahno's mother and father approach; the neighbors walk beside them._

_"Mother, Father." Tahno dips his head in a bow, praying that they don't suspect anything._

_"Hello," Ty Su bows politely, smiling. "Thank you for the onions, Tahno."_

_She turns and walks away. Tahno forces a smile—it's a smile that vanishes when his father says,_

_"Have you heard the news? Jai-Li Sang is going to be married."_

_"What?" Tahno doesn't know why he's surprised. He tails them back to the farmhouse, listens as they gossip endlessly about the groom-to-be (a wealthy boy from a neighboring village)...it was arranged between the families, you know. A bit secretive about the entire affair, but they've got so much money, it's not as if anyone's going to _say _anything..._

_He goes to bed that night feeling strangely empty, unsatisfied. Previous nights, he'd lain awake, watching the moon fall on the fields beyond the window, shamelessly touched himself, thinking of fucking girls with full breasts and red lips, feeling their tightness, their mouths on him..._

_Invariably, his thoughts would wander to Jai-Li, and Tahno would feel awkward and guilty. Better to picture a nameless, faceless girl. Obviously, _real _sex was different. It wasn't only heat and want; it was also the buildup of need and the white-out of finally coming, and, apparently, an empty feeling when it was all over. Tahno turns over in bed, listens to his brothers and sisters mumble and squirm in their sleep—their innocent sleep—and tries not to think about Jai-Li Sang._

* * *

"You don't understand," Tahno tells Korra. They've moved into a darker section of park, far from the lamplight. "It's complicated."

"What is? Sleeping with someone?" Korra hears the tight, angry quality to her voice. "You _fucked _me, Tahno. You fucked me and you—"

"Don't say that," A pained look crosses Tahno's face. "Don't say it like...that."

"You're unbelievable." Korra turns to face him, reads the hurt and surprise in Tahno's eyes. "You really are."

She sounds brittle, about to be pushed over the edge, and maybe she wants to fall.

"Korra..." Tahno reaches out, extends a hand to touch her, to hold her arm. Korra steps away, her chest cold with rage.

"Get away from me."

Confusion.

"Now."

Tahno doesn't move. Korra turns on her heel, is moving away (is she running? Jogging? Walking quickly?) and then she is making her way through the darkening park. A group of people are listening to a flute player, gathering around a low knoll, and Korra pushes past them, barely able to see through her coursing rage. The anger is white-hot.

She does not return to Air Temple Island. There would be too many questions, the Airbabies asking her where she's been, why, why is she blushing—she's not _crying_ is she?

They are too young to possibly understand.

Korra finds herself downtown, dodging streetcars, numb to the blur of the city. There are elbows, faces passing within her line of vision; a crowded street, downtown, below the darkness.

She turns onto a side-street, is passing a dimly-lit teahouse when someone whistles and, a moment later, slaps her hard on the ass.

Korra wheels, murder in her eyes. A boy stands behind her, rough-looking, his hair cut brutally short. He wears a grin, almost sheepish.

"Did you just slap me?"

Sheepishness vanished in an instant, he leers.

"You want some of this, honey?" Gesturing towards his pants. In another time, another place, Korra might have challanged him to a fight, her voice full of bright, innocent justice and clarity—fighting for what's right, for what's _good_.

Not anymore.

She steps forward and punches him.

Hard.

"Ow! _Fuck_!" The boy stumbles, holding his jaw. Korra readies herself, prepared to use her firebending, earthbending, anything...

He's a nonbender. She realizes it almost at once, a brutal realization—he's ready to use his fists, not earth, not air, not fire or water. She can't use bending now, not against this boy.

Korra raises her fists, ready to fight back with punches, kicks. The boy, holding his jaw, stares at her in disbelief. When he swings, Korra is ready.

They skirmish wildly, throwing punches, launching kicks. Korra catches him again and again; he gets in some good blows, almost knocks her off balance. They move into an alley. Punches. Korra tastes blood. She avoids kicking him in the privates, knowing how much that would hurt.

She doesn't want to hurt him.

She wants to feel _release_.

This isn't about some young man who slapped her ass in front of a teahouse, and Korra knows it.

* * *

It's about Tahno.

* * *

He finds himself hunched over a wooden bar, staring into the depths of a ceramic cup of sake.

Yes.

This is good.

No.

This is irresponsible.

He already feels a little drunk—just a _little_, he hasn't reached the point of total inebriation. Tahno has always prided himself on remaining in control, even when he's intoxicated.

A little sake never hurt anyone.

_That bitch._

He can't shake Korra's face from his mind—that face, tight and brittle with anger, with some kind of...

Hatred? Hatred for _Tahno? _He can't imagine—the thought of Korra hating him makes Tahno feel lightheaded, feel awful, empty and hollow.

There was a time when he enjoyed the thought that other probenders disliked him, envied him...relished in their envy. _Got off on it. _

Not anymore.

He slumps a little lower, drinks more sake. This is a little better. Tahno begins to feel light, disconnected from his body. There is a pleasant fog blanketing his mind, clouding out the sorrow, the bitterness.

"Hey." A smoky voice, low and husky. Someone slides onto the barstool beside Tahno's. He glances up, registers a young woman.

She says it again. "Hey."

She's talking to him. Tahno blinks.

"Hey."

She's wearing a red dress, fringed, black hair tumbling across pale, exposed shoulders. A unlit cigarette dangles from bloodred lips.

"Never seen you here before." There is an easy, sophisticated drawl to her voice, something casually _high-class_. Her eyes are dark, half-closed. She looks at once lazy and uncaring and beautiful.

It is a girly beauty, very feminine.

She slides closer. They talk briefly. Are names exchanged? Tahno won't remember later. He doesn't think so—no, no, they weren't, can't have been, because she sure as hell doesn't recognize him as the ex-Wolfbat that he is.

When she kisses him, Tahno doesn't protest.

He knows how it goes—they will stay here, in the smoky, dim bar, and kiss, and then go back to her apartment, or maybe fool around, and in the end he'll be sated but not satisfied.

Her hand slides up his leg. Tahno flinches away, places his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" She removes the cigarette.

"I can't." He says. "I can't, I'm sorry."

Tahno leaves, wanders around a poorly-lit portion of downtown. There are other bars open; he hears people singing, laughing, the clink of glasses. The distant jangle of music.

A few months ago, Tahno would have swaggered, would have a girl hanging off of his right arm, his left. Would take them home at the end of the night—maybe one, maybe both.

Maybe not both.

He would have sneered and drank and looked down on those who were less than him—less of a bender, less of a man. He would have hidden easily behind a facade of confidence, confidence bordering on cruelty. And behind it, of course, Tahno would have felt slightly hollow, almost _guilty _for putting up this wall, this mask of superiority.

But those days are over, and Tahno has done his time, waking up in a cold sweat with the feel of Amon's thumb against his forehead, he's done his time and he's moved on. It's over, it's done with.

_Not quite though_, the voice in Tahno's head chimes in airily. _You'll never _really _get over it, Tahno. _

And Tahno knows that the voice is telling the truth; that he will never really get over this, the loss of his bending. He's no longer a Wolfbat, no longer a probender—and _that _was as much a part of his identity as his hair, or his eyes.

It's getting late, and Tahno doesn't feel like staying out until the small hours of the morning, and so he walks (drunkenly) home and lets himself into the apartment, and then falls asleep half-clothed (his shirt being discarded halfway between the doorway and his bed), and allows a thick, dreamless sleep to overtake him.

* * *

Korra winds up in the back room of a small teahouse downtown, wrapping her wounded hands in tape and strips of canvas bandage. The owner was kind to let her in.

She goes into the washroom, stands over the sink for a while. There is dried blood under her nose, one eye already blackening. She'll have to explain to Tenzin—make up a bullshit story, hope that he'll believe her.

Her gaze is steady and ice-blue, and full of sadness. This isn't the girl who left the Southern Water Tribe all those months ago. _That _girl wouldn't pick a fight, wouldn't feel so awful over a stupid boy.

Korra stares at her reflection in the mirror, shamed when it blurs with unbidden tears. This isn't the girl that she used to be. This isn't the Avatar.

Korra doesn't know who she had become, and it scares her.

* * *

**Another chapter! Sorry that it took so damn long—finally home from a long road trip with my family! Please review and let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry that it took so long to publish this chapter! Another one is currently in the works! Disclaimer: I don't own LOK or any associated characters. (Alas, alas...)**

Chapter Seven

It's Tenzin who finds her the next morning, sitting on a rock beside the rock garden. An Order of the White Lotus guard is raking the sand slowly, obviously lost in his task. He looks so happy, Korra thinks.

She feels lost, hollow. Korra barely glances up when she hears Tenzin approaching—she knows that it's him. Bolin or Mako would have said something, would have called out, 'Korra! Hi, Korra!'.

"We need to talk, Korra."

_Shit_.

Korra presses her lips together, swallows hard, tries to will away the twinge of nervousness in the bottom of her stomach.

"Sure, Tenzin." She _feels _empty. Why doesn't she sound empty?

"I'll be honest with you, Korra," Tenzin places a hand on her shoulder, sits down beside her. "I'm worried about you."

Korra tries to scoff and ask him why—why on earth should he worry about _her_, the Avatar? But she can't seem to form an acceptable scoff at the moment anyways._  
_

"You're staying out all night, coming home before sunrise. Something's going on—I can see it in your eyes. It's not like you, Korra."

She tries to hold back the tears, but she can't. Korra feels a quick, scalding flash of shame.

"It's nothing, Tenzin." She wipes her eyes hastily, pretending to scratch her nose.

"There are cuts on your hands," Tenzin says suddenly. "Were you in a fight?"

"No!" Korra stands. "No, I was...I was at the gym, training. It's really none of your business, anyways."

She turns, daring him to follow her, to tell her off, and then stalks away, headed for the other side of the island.

* * *

_You messed up, Tahno. You messed up real, real bad. You failed._

__Tahno can't keep that damn plaintive voice out of his head, no matter how hard he tries and how much he drowns it in sake and rice wine.

He enters the teahouse with the voice in tow, unrelenting. God, he hates himself right now. Korra wasn't lying—she'd been truthful, honest, shared her _emotions_ with him, and Tahno had gone and made a fool of himself.

He'd used her.

Tahno feels disgusted with himself; Korra was right, so painfully right...he'd fucked her, he'd taken her innocence and he'd taken it for granted.

He sits down at a low table, kneeling, staring into the whorls of dark wood. A sudden shadow looms above him, and for one ridiculous moment Tahno thinks that it is Korra, and his heart leaps into his throat, and then—

"Hello, Tahno."

"_Ming__?" _

"Who else would it be?" The former Wolfbat drops to his knees, an awkward, heavy gesture. The ex-earthbender's grace seems to have fled his body, left it strangely...empty, maybe? Hollow.

Tahno knows the feeling.

"What are you...doing here?" Suddenly, everything seems weird and clunky and awkward, because Tahno knows that Ming has shared this experience, this nightmare of being held captive by Amon, of having your bending zapped from your body.

"Drinking tea—what the hell else would I be doing?" Ming is all sharp words now; he's always been a little brusque, Tahno reminds himself...at least that's not changed much.

"I don't know."

There is silence. Former teammates, brought to their knees by the Equalists. Tahno beings to feel very uneasy.

"How've you been?" Ming looks older, sadder. "With..."

"Yeah. Right. Fine." Tahno folds his hands, unfolds them. "I've been fine, Ming."

"Good." Ming says hollowly. "That's good, Tahno."

They sit through another few awkward moments of silence before Ming gets up and, making a frankly shitty excuse, walks away into the teahouses' gloom. Tahno sits alone and drinks tea and feels guilty and stupid and arrogant for a while. He leaves well before noon, eager to dodge patrons coming in for the lunchtime rush. No use hanging around; if Ming, a former teammate, frequents this place, loads of other people from Tahno's past might.

He departs through the back exit and finds Ming standing in the alleyway, pissing against a brick wall. Out in the open, in the broad white daylight, like a common drunk.

"Ming," Tahno says, "What the hell are you doing?"

"The fuck does it _look _like I'm doing?" Ming fumbles his pants back together, turns to Tahno. There is a strange, sudden fire in his green-brown eyes.

"I hate him, you know. For what he did to us."

No one needs to mention a name.

"I'm going to find him, Tahno," Ming vows, his voice low and dangerous. Raspy. "I'm going to find him and kill him. I'll bring this whole damn Equalist party to its _knees_."

"Good luck." Why does Tahno feel...watched? Hunted. He feels _hunted_. Like someone might be lurking in the shadows of that brick building nearby, ready to leap forward with electric bullwhips in hand, striking the two men down...

"I won't need it." Ming gives Tahno a cold, lingering look before swaggering from the alleyway. Tahno knows that he's expected to join Ming, to rally for the cause. Hell, he's Amon's victim, too—he should be spreading the word like wildfire, trying to find easy rebels to join the fight.

He can't get Korra of his mind. Tahno feels a pull, an unrelenting need to go to her, to apologize, to make things right.

As afternoon closes around the city, he makes his way to Yue Bay.

* * *

The water is cool. Korra slides beneath the surface, glancing upwards as green-blue waves close above her head, sealing out the sky and sun.

It's like drowning.

She keeps the air bubble around her, sits cross-legged within it, stirring herself forward with twitches of her arms. Yes, she's trying to get to shore...as slowly as possible.

In the end, it takes her ten minutes to reach the shoreline. Korra dries herself, wrings out her damp hair and finds a warm afternoon has enveloped the city.

She wanders a little—down along the bayside, eyes always moving, unable to shake off the tension thrumming within her bones—and stops cold when she sees Tahno headed her way.

_No. Shit—no, what the hell? What's _he _doing here?_

__Korra wants to run; her muscles tense. But does she want to run away, or into Tahno's arms?

Oh, spirits. They're too close now, too close to make a run for it, and so Korra faces him and looks him in the eyes, staring him down.

"Tahno."

"Korra."

Silence.

"I—"

"Shut up, pretty-boy," Korra says sharply, and kisses him.

* * *

As she's kissing him, Korra realizes what must be done. The realization hits her like a wall of water, a slamming wave, rock-hard.

She pulls away first.

"We need to stop, Tahno."

"What?"

"You know what." Fixing him with a stern look, trying to convey her sorrow, anger, disappointment. Want. Need.

"No." Tahno says, and then again, louder. "No, Korra."

"It was never meant to be," Korra folds her arms. Yes, she's aware of how stuffy and cliche that sounds, how pitifully weak an excuse. "You and I...this can't happen between us."

"Why not?" Tahno asks, fervently, grabbing her shoulders. His gaze is hard, intense. "Why not? Because you're the Avatar? Because I'm a non-bender now? Because we were rivals? Is that it?"

"I can't do this," She admits, feeling the guilt and regret—is it regret?—rising in her throat. "Not now. I have a war to fight, Tahno. We _all _have a war to fight. Like it or not, we're soldiers in the same battle, okay? There _is _no rivalry anymore—there can't be. And there can't be..._this_, either."

"_This_? You _started _this, Korra. You...you _consented _to this. You wanted this as badly as I did."

"It stops now." Korra tries not to choke on the words. Spirits, this is a mistake. But it's the _right _mistake. "Today, Tahno. I'm sorry."

He stares at her for a moment, a long, hard stare. There is a flat quality to Tahno's eyes, something breakable that she's crashed so haplessly into. They're both breakable. One is better at concealing this, and it isn't Tahno.

"I changed for you, Korra."

And then he's gone. Korra watches Tahno walk away, slowly, and she thinks suddenly, violently, of the feeling of being pressed against Tahno, skin against skin, the feeling of being _so close_, head spinning, like having an out-of-body experience, like reaching some kind of crazed, dizzy-with-heat nirvana.

_I've made a huge mistake._

* * *

**So...another chapter! Sorry that it took so long! Also, if anyone catches the TV show that the last line references, I will love you forever.**


End file.
